


Just Hold Me

by Dogsled



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mission Fic, Not Really Character Death, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3131882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogsled/pseuds/Dogsled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh yes," McKay said. "That's the best thing. Not only am I stranded in the midst of a zombie apocalypse,  and dying - did I mention *dying* - I get to do it in the company of my favorite person in the entire world, thank you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Hold Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tarlan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/gifts).



"How you doing, bud?"

Rodney - poor, suffering Rodney - glared up at John irritably. "Did you just call me 'bud'?"

Sheppard grinned defiantly. "I might have."

"Well, let me see. I'm dying of some sort of Ancient zombiefication virus of which there is no known cure. I'm hundreds of thousands of light-years away from anyone who holds a medical degree, and oh! We're running out of ammo to hold off the hordes of the undead pressing at our the doors."

"But look on the bright side," John said. "At least you have me."

"Oh yes," McKay said. "That's the best thing. Not only am I stranded in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, and dying - did I mention _dying_ \- I get to do it in the company of my favorite person in the entire world, thank you."

"You realize if you turn into a zombie I have to shoot you. That's a burden of responsibility right there."

"There will be no shooting! Restraining! Restraining and fetching medical attention, as fast as possible! Besides which you'd enjoy it."

Sheppard faux gasped. "I would not!"

"Yes you would! You've been waiting for a chance to shoot me! This is the opportunity you've been waiting for."

Honestly, even if Sheppard had considered shooting Rodney (pretty often, actually), he really didn't feel like doing it now. Except maybe out of pity. Rodney was pale and shivering, his eyelids drooping and his expression vacant between outbursts. Not long ago John had asked him the square root of sixteen and Rodney had forgotten the question before he could answer it.

But rescue was on the way, and maybe - just maybe - they might manage to MacGuyver together some kind of zombie cure. Hopefully before Rodney turned into a cannibal chomper himself.

For now, though, he crouched down beside him, propping his gun against his knee.

"I could just kneecap you," he teased. "That way even if you die on me I'll still have plenty of time to run away."

"Haha. Like there's anything about this that's even a little bit funny."

"It's called lightening the mood."

"Well it's not working."

"I get that, I do, but..." 

McKay pulled his knees up toward his chest and groaned, and Sheppard fell silent. He was either dying or he'd eaten a really bad chicken, and if Sheppard had to make an educated guess, he knew which one he'd go for. He reached forward and rubbed McKay's back gently.

"Hey. It's going to be alright, you'll see."

"Be serious."

"I am being serious." Maybe for the first time in his life. John was really worried about him this time. This was _scary_ , and if Rodney went under, he'd be alone here, waiting through the night for rescue with only his zombified best friend for company.

Best friend?

He bit his lip. "I didn't want to bring this up until..."

"Until I really went downhill," Rodney finished.

"Yeah."

"Spit it out."

John chewed a little harder at his bottom lip. "I've got plastic straps to tie you up with."

"Kinky," Rodney said, and John blushed.

"Hey!"

Rodney cracked a smile. It was the first one in a while, and it stuck around for all of a few seconds before a fresh wave of nausea hit him. "Come on, then."

Sheppard didn't need to be asked twice. He closed the distance, wrapped his arms around Rodney and started pulling straps closed around his wrists, ratcheting them tight so that there was no chance of him breaking them or twisting free.

"Alright enough. I'd like to still have some feeling in my hands if we make it through this."

John rocked back on his heels, frowning. "Any last requests?"

McKay scowled. "Nothing I can think of."

But nothing he could think of wasn't nothing for long. They sat talking about Star Trek until the pain was too much, and then through McKay's incoherent noises he managed to speak just a little, his voice impressed with the scratchiness of genuine fear:

"You know that last request?" More groans, and just as Sheppard had almost given up: "Could you just...just hold me?"

It was a weird request, and yet as he wrapped his arms around McKay it made perfect sense. He was alone and afraid and dying. He was cold, and Sheppard might not be the top of his list of people to be trapped in zombie hell with, but at least he was a friend--maybe even a best friend. If the most he could do was offer some comfort as McKay tumbled into the cavernous embrace of death, then Sheppard was going to do it. That was just the kind of man he was.

As Sheppard rocked him, ever so gently, light flashed through the gaps in the hastily nailed up planks covering the doors and windows. Rescue was here at last--and not a second too soon.


End file.
